


Dogs Can't Have Chocolate

by PaladinNoire



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Ficlet, M/M, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 22:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaladinNoire/pseuds/PaladinNoire
Summary: Bucky really, really liked his job. Emergency vets were great to have, but it was even better when they weren’t needed. In a perfect world cars would swerve more efficiently out of the way of wandering pets, but the world was not perfect and that’s why Bucky had a job. That was why peopleneededthat job.





	Dogs Can't Have Chocolate

A slow day at the office was both a curse and a massive relief. For Bucky, it was more of a relief, if he were honest. His PTSD wasn’t _bad_ , but it certainly wasn’t the greatest thing to have when a bloody and dying dog was rushed in by a crying family. He would admit that he had to step back for a few minutes with that one…

But Bucky really, really liked his job. Emergency vets were great to have, but it was even better when they weren’t needed. In a perfect world cars would swerve more efficiently out of the way of wandering pets, but the world was not perfect and that’s why Bucky had a job. That was why people _needed_ that job. 

“Barnes, it’s getting late, are you heading home tonight or are you gonna tough it out?” Clint asked as he spun around in the “wheel-y” chair, nearly knocking the office cat, Peggy, off of her perch. She let out an unamused mewl and hopped onto Bucky’s lap for safety. kneading her sharp little claws into his thighs before finally settling down. God he hated when she did that. She never did it to Clint, though. Just the rest of the Commandos staff.

The Howling Commandos Emergency Vet Clinic had certainly grown in the past couple of years and it employed a weird amount of vet veterinarians. Like, the only non veteran on staff at that moment was Clint, but he was an intern so Bucky didn’t count him yet. Barton wasn’t sure if the military was really his gig, since he had been around a lot of people who had seen combat. 

“Nah, I’m gonna stay here for the night. Business might be slow but I can’t leave you here with Gabe in case something big happens,” Bucky replied, scratching Peggy behind her soft brown ears. He found it hilarious that Dugan had actually named it after the head vet, Peggy Carter, considering cat Peggy acted more like intern Natasha, who worked the mornings.

The cat was really cute. She was white with brown ears paws. Her toe beans were sublime. 

“Oh, c’mon, Barnes! I’m a big boy! I passed my exams and everything!” Clint put his feet down and his heels skidded to a shaky hault. “That’s retarded.”

“Barton that is not the correct use of that adjective. Put five dollars in the swear jar.”

Clint grumbled and pulled out his wallet with a grimace. For a kid who would throw someone into the sun for using “gay” as an insult, he seemed to forget about the r-slur. Bucky understood, though; he didn’t know how wrong it was until he was almost out of high school but by then the damage had been done. His cosmic repayment was preventing others from using it at such. 

Cat Peggy’s ears perked up and she stared at the automatic doors. Bucky stared, too, if only to make her feel better. God, the fucking cat could be paran-

The doors slid open and a big man carrying a big dog walked in with a distressed look on his face.

Peggy leapt onto the cabinet to stay out of the way and Bucky got right to his feet and marched right up to the man with Clint at his heels.

“What’s your emergency?” He asked as calmly as he could, sensing the fear and tension in the man before him.

“Chocolate! Cap-he, he got into a box of chocolates and ate the entire thing! I didn’t know until he was throwing up! Fuck, please, you-you have to help him!” the man extended his arms and the golden retriever, Cap, looked like a wreck.

“How much chocolate, sir?” Bucky asked, leading the man past the desk and into the back.

“About a pound? Maybe?”

“Clint have Gabe set up a room. Sir, we’ll do our best for your dog.”

~*~

Two hours and a cup of coffee later, Bucky was petting Cap as he slept on the floor. The dog didn’t have to get his stomach pumped, which was good, and he also wasn’t going to die any time soon. As far as Bucky was concerned, the night was a win.

Sure, he was all sorts of gross, but it was all part of the job. The retriever slept peacefully and was very patient as Clint the Intern fumbled with the IV. Cap, Bucky was sure, was a very, very good boy. Maybe even the best of boys. He couldn’t resist booping the dog on the nose, who didn’t stir in the slightest. Man, Bucky wished he could sleep like that for once. 

Clint popped his head into the observation room and looked dead on his feet (he probably forgot to take a break for coffee, the stupid bastard). He blinked slowly and flopped his arm in the general direction of the waiting room. “Mister Rogers is still here.”

“Who?” Bucky stood up and heard his knees pop. He imagined the man himself there in a cozy sweater, smiling a grandfatherly smile at him. Man, that would have been so cool.

“Uh, Cap’s owner?” Clint slid out of view, probably onto the floor, and had used his _I’m going home now_ voice.

He was still there…? Bucky left Cap with a pat on his sweet little head and went the long way around through the break room to make Cap’s owner, Rogers, a cup of coffee. God knew he needed it. 

Bucky didn’t realize he smelled like dog vomit until he walked into the rather sterile waiting room. He could smell _himself_. Giving the coffee to Cap’s owner seemed like a stupid idea since he _did_ smell like death. The guy probably didn’t even drink coffee; Barton had him assuming things. Things like everyone needing a steady influx of caffeine to function like a proper human being. 

The man looked up with tired eyes and offered Bucky a smile, which he returned with his _I’m in public and therefore have to be awkwardly polite_ smile.

“Hey, uh, sorry for this!” the man scrubbed the back of his head and lifted his wrist to check his, oh fuck, this guy still wore a _watch?_ Well, then again, Bucky didn’t exactly have a job that required watch-wearing. The last thing he needed was having some dog accidentally bite into it and get cut on the glass. Or get vomit on it. Or other unsavory bodily fluids from sick or otherwise injured animals. 

Bucky strolled over and extended the cup out, careful not to get too close with his awful smell. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It happens. It’s actually a really common thing, if you can believe it! Dogs get into holiday chocolate a lot, though we have to work quickly to keep them safe. It’s a good thing you brought Cap over when you did.”

Rogers accepted the coffee and was very obvious about “not noticing” the dog puke. He smiled, probably more genuinely this time around since his lips quirked like they hadn’t previously. “Yeah, I just wish I had noticed sooner, you know?” Rogers took a sip (thank fuck he didn’t ask for sugar or cream) and moved his bag from the seat next to him. “Sorry for, y’know,” he gestured vaguely with his hand towards Bucky’s torso and- oh God there was a large stain of dog- oh my God, why, “I should have paid better attention to Cap. He’s always getting into things.”

Bucky desired death. The more he noticed how hot this Rogers guy was the more he noticed how fucking gross he himself looked. Covered in dog vomit. Bags that have bags under his eyes. His hair was probably greasy, too. “Like I said, it happens. Cap should be good to go in the morning, no extra charge for the over-night.”

Rogers frowned and licked his lips, “He can’t come home?”

He gulped. “Well. Not now, anyway. It’s only for observation purposes. Plus you wouldn’t want him blowing chunks all over ‘ya on the way out.” 

Rogers chuckled and took another sip of coffee. “Thanks for this, by the way,” he held up the cup for emphasis.

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky said softly, smiling a lot more honestly than he had before.

“Steve.”

“Pardon?”

“Steve, uh, Steve Rogers,” Rogers, Steve Rogers, held out his hand and wanted Bucky to shake it and oh shit he couldn’t be a dick about it and refuse but he was covered in nastiness and oh shit his hand just extended itself and oh hey look at that they were shaking hands, it was happening.

“James-uh-Bucky Barnes.” 

He was so fucked.

~*~

Pulling all nighters at worked sucked balls. Or sucked ass, which ever was deemed worse. Bucky’d done both. He knew how bad they were. He also knew that working all night was just...not fun. At least he got to change out of his nasty scrubs, fuck, those were gonna be a bitch to wash. He didn’t get to shower though (he wasn’t gonna lie, he was totally tempted to use the emergency wash just to get the ick out of his hair), and that was always the worst part.

Bucky should have just cut his hair short and avoided the heartbreak. He took out a hair tie from Natasha’s locker (it was unlocked and it the corner; he would pay for it later) and stuffed it into a messy bun. He looked like a fucking vagrant. 

“Late night, I see,” Peggy, not the cat, smirked over her Starbucks cup as she walked into the break room.

He groaned and rubbed his face, “I feel disgusting.”

He walked into the observation room and saw Cap awake, wagging his tail, and looking like nothing in the world was wrong. Lucky bastard.

“Peggy,” Bucky yawned, “Cap here stayed over night and his owner covered the bill before he went home to crash. The dog binged on his Valentine’s Day chocolate, probably.”

“Ah, that reminds me, Happy Valentine’s Day, James,” Peggy smiled politely and handed him a box of chocolates with a little card.

“Thanks, Pegs. I’m gonna go now, before Nat realizes that I took one of her hair ties,” Bucky grabbed his bag of clothes and shucked into his jeans while Peggy shook her head and manned the front desk, already sporting her own navy scrubs.

A hand gently touched his shoulder and he absolutely did not yelp. He spun around and looked Natasha dead in the eye.

“Wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we, James?” she said, voice even. Jesus, she was terrifyingly quiet. He liked her interning, but, fuck.

“Ah! Yeah, uh, I’ll return it-”

“Don’t bother. Your gross hair’s been in it,” she deadpanned and took off her sweatshirt, stuffing it into her locker. She was smart, unlike Bucky, and wore things over her scrubs and always had an extra pair with her. Bucky was lucky if he remembered to _bring_ his scrubs.

He rolled his eyes, “You’re too kind,” he said, and waved bye to Peggy on his way out.

He didn’t get very far out the front door, though.

Bucky fell flat on his ass and practically slid back into the waiting room.

“Back so soon?” he heard Peggy call from the desk.

“I can never leave,” he sighed and almost took out his phone, while still on the floor, to see if time was doing wonky things because maybe it was all a dream. Dog puke. Hot guy named Steve. Natasha being cool about personal theft. Running into a brick wall while trying to leave a prison. It all made sense, really.

“Oh crap! Sorry!” 

Someone leaned into his field of vision and he saw a hand jut out in front of his face. The voice sounded familiar, but he probably had a concussion. He took the offered hand and was hauled up onto his feet; now with a bonus headache! Bucky looked up, um, _up_ at whoever just hoisted him up like a pillow and he almost swore aloud. Steve Rogers. Of course it was Steve hot-guy-who-probably-had-an-awesome-Valentine’s-Day-before-the-dog-threw-up Rogers.

“No worries,” he shrugged and stepped back, allowing Steve into the room to pick up his dog.

Steve stepped in quickly, his cheeks a seriously dark shade of red. Almost as red as his lips. No. Bad Bucky. Stop that.

“Gosh, I’m just not making anything easy for you, am I, Buck?” Steve grinned and bowed his head, clutching the leash in his hands up to his chest.

Sweet damn. Now that they were both standing, Bucky got a much better look at the guy; he liked what he saw. His shoulders were broad enough to block the fucking doorway, even if he brought them in. His logs-uh-arms were also impressive; they had to be, considering the guy probably ran here with an 80 pound dog in them. But his eyes though- they detracted from the bulky mass of his muscles and made him look younger (or at least made him look younger than Bucky’s age).

“It’s part of the job,” Bucky shrugged. He heard Peggy scoff from somewhere behind him. He knew he was trying to act cool, she didn’t have to ruin it by acknowledging it. 

“Mr. Rogers, I presume?” she asked and probably didn’t even wait for his nod of confirmation before going back to the observation room to retrieve his dog.

“Well, I’m looking more homeless by the minute, so I should probably get going. Or maybe I should go to the nearest store and buy all of the cheap chocolate; my window of opportunity is shrinking as we speak.”

Smooth, Barnes. So. Fucking. Smooth. 

Steve did the little side-smile again and said, “I need to get on that. Who needs a date when you can get three times the candy the day for half the price and none of the heartache after when you’re single?”

It was a true miracle that a living god such as Steve Rogers was single. 

Bucky was going to give a legitimately smooth reply back, he really was, but a cold nose nudged his crotch and it derailed his coolness by about 97%.

“Cap! We do not do that!” Steve scolded his dog and brushed past Bucky to click the leash to the collar. “Sorry about that, Bucky! I can’t break him of that one habit.”

Bucky smiled and nodded, he knew how dogs were. “Don’t worry about it, Steve.” He held open the door and let them go first, purposefully avoiding the knowing looks from Peggy and Nat. “Hope to see you soon, Steve!” Bucky said and then almost slammed his face into the glass on the door, “Wait fuck, uh, I mean, take care and hopefully your dog doesn’t need to throw up on me again?”

Steve rolled with the joke well and nodded. “Yeah, see you around, Buck.”

He was so fucked.

~*~

Fuck chocolate, showers were better anyway. So were naps. Naps and showers were great. So was coffee after a nap. Maybe Barton was onto something…

To celebrate a night well done and a successful nap without oversleeping, Bucky was going to treat himself to sushi. Man, he loved sushi. Going out to eat alone didn’t even bother him anymore. Some people found it weird but he just stopped caring. Food was always more important. Plus since it was the day after Valentine’s, he had very little competition for elbow-room.

The hole in the wall place he always went to was open and he was the only one there. Fuck yeah. Score one for Bucky.

He ordered his usual, a Leviathan (crystal shrimp tempura) and a Las Vegas (basically happiness in food form) with a side of pan fried edamame. He was so predictable it hurt sometimes.

The chef always gave him an extra little dish of eel sauce, on the house, because Bucky was probably the source of a whole 10% of their monthly income. He had to be. His job let it happen.

“Happy Valentine’s, Bucky,” the chef’s wife, Miki, gave him a little heart-shaped mochi ball with his rolls. Oh man, he was spoiled.

“Thanks, Miki,” he smiled and waited for her to turn around before stuffing his face full of shrimp.

He finished the Leviathan and was about to crack down on the Vegas when the bell jingled, signaling that other patrons were there. Nooooo. Bucky wasn’t adverse to other people, he just didn’t like being watched as he ate. Especially by strangers. Alone. And he knew it was just him and one other person because there was literally no conversation going on. Ugh. At least he had eel sauce.

“You following me, Barnes?”

Bucky whipped around fast enough to pull something in his neck, fuck, ow, and already knew Steve was there. 

“‘whaff ‘ere furf,” he said around a mouthful of deliciousness. He swallowed a little too quickly and the tempura kind of scratched him on the way down, but he didn’t tear up too badly. “You’re the one following me, Rogers.”

Steve laughed quietly through his nose and sat in the chair across from Bucky with a dopey look on his face. 

Miki came over to refill Bucky’s Coke and looked right at Steve, “The usual, Steven?”

“Yes please, Miki,” he said and suddenly turned to Bucky, “Shit, sorry, I didn’t even ask to sit down first! I can leave, if you’d like!” He glanced down at the food and furrowed his brow, “I didn’t mean to intrude, honestly.”

Bucky set down his chopsticks and waved his hand around as Steve tried to sit up, “Don’t worry about it. Eating alone isn’t that fun anyway.”

Steve looked incredibly relieved and sat back down again. “Good. It was going to be a little difficult offering to pay for you from three tables away.”

“Pay for me? Steve, you can’t make it a date when I’ve already eaten half of my food and you just barely ordered yours. Besides. You can’t pay for me if I was already gonna offer to pay for you.”

“I didn’t know this was a date, Buck?” Steve had a sly grin on his face as he said it, the cheeky bastard.

“It can be if we want it to be,” Bucky quirked up an eyebrow and popped a piece of sushi in his mouth to absolutely avoid conversation until Steve’s rolls got there. Same rolls as Bucky got, actually. Down to the eel sauce. It led to some fairly interesting dinner conversation.

**Author's Note:**

> Something from February of 2015, a gift for a friend, really. I know it's nowhere near Valentine's Day, but what time of the year isn't good for some Stucky?


End file.
